


the best luck i had (you)

by MakerOfAnarchy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakerOfAnarchy/pseuds/MakerOfAnarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris goes through some insomnia. Darren is there to help him through it. They're left on the edge of something brand new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the best luck i had (you)

**Author's Note:**

> please enjoy! also on my tumblr xx

Going from _asleep_ to _not_ asleep at three AM, barely five hours after he had finally _fallen_ asleep is jarring, breathtaking. He grips Darren’s arm tightly, blinking, looking around, and trying to get his bearings.

His room is as it always is, bathed in moonlight, but he blinks once, and instantly knows that he’s not getting back to sleep. Darren’s arm is warm across him, moving with the rise and fall of his breath, like an anchor. Chris sits up, pulls his knees up to his chest and falls back like that, head against his knees.

He huffs out a breath, feels the exhaustion creeping up on him already. It’s that defiant type of exhaustion where he knows that he won’t get back to sleep no matter how hard he tries, and he gives up after a minute or so, rolling out of bed.

Chris sits on the floor of his living room with a bottle of water and his phone, scrolling through Instagram. His notepad and pen are next to him on the floor, blank except for a few scribbles. It’s nagging him, in the back of his mind, and he sets down his phone, stares at the blank sheet uselessly until Darren comes out of the room.

He wraps his arms and legs around Chris from behind, leaning back so they’re against the couch together. Darren doesn’t say anything, just rests his cheek against his hair and Chris relaxes, items falling from his hands. Darren takes both of his hands and rests them against his stomach, and Chris lets his head fall backwards, onto Darren’s shoulder. He closes his eyes, going with Darren’s tiny swaying motions.

He takes deep, even breaths, soothed by Darren all around him, thinking that even though he’s exhausted as fuck and knows Darren has to be the same – he still wishes he could take this moment and preserve it so he could never forget it.

“Did you write anything?” Darren says, and Chris shakes his head slowly, sighing and tightening their hands together. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m fine. I can’t sleep. I feel restless, like I should be doing something.”

Darren hums gently, kisses his ear, “What _do_ you want to do?”

Chris shrugs and shuffles back a bit so he can lean to the left and look up at Darren from the side, noting his tousled hair and red eyes. “You should go back to sleep.” He untangles one hand from Darren’s, cups his warm cheek and then strokes through his hair, laughing gently when Darren kisses his wrist.

Darren takes the hand away from his face, stroking it rhythmically, “No way. I’m obligated to stay up with you.”

Chris snorts, “There’s no contract on our relationship.”

“I’d sign one, if you wanted me to,” Darren sighs quietly.

Chris laughs, doesn’t even think about it, “That’s called marriage, honey.”

Darren is silent.

It takes a second to register but he takes a huge breath to steel himself when it does, turning around slowly in Darren’s arms. Chris realizes how dark it is when their eyes meet, Darren’s hands locked behind his back.

He exhales, “I hope,” says it very slowly, “that wasn’t…your sorry ass attempt at a marriage proposal.”

Darren throws his head back, falling against the couch as he laughs, pulling Chris close to him. Chris falls against him easily, shifting so he’s straddling Darren and snuggling into the warmth of his chest, closing his eyes. He brings his arms around Darren’s neck, cuddles with him like that and tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach.

Darren’s arms tighten around him, “So sorry. Next time I’ll have roses and chocolate and the whole shebang for you. Now tell me, what is it you want to do?”

“Mmm,” Chris hums, relaxing even further into Darren, wishing he could fall asleep, right there in Darren’s arms. But his body is still thrumming with energy, and he scoots closer to Darren, hoping that it can maybe be cured that way. “It’s four AM on a Wednesday night in Los Angeles, California. What _can_ we do?”

“You just answered your own question, Chris.”

\--

The cashiers at Trader Joe's look at them with disdain when they walk in, arms around each other. It’s practically empty but Darren squeezes his waist and grabs a basket anyways, guiding him around the store.

“This is alcohol, Darren,” Chris laughs, but he’s already touching a bottle of cheap wine, wondering if getting drunk will help him sleep.

“Nothing like a good ole six pack to put someone fast asleep,” Darren picks up a pack of cheap beer Chris knows will taste crappy, but Darren waggles his eyebrows and grabs a bottle of vodka and Chris can’t help but giggle.

Darren takes his hand, leads him down the aisle, putting soda in the basket also.

“Don’t tell me you’re just grabbing random things,” Chris says airily, yawning and picking up a bag of chips.

“Oh yeah, because you _love_ hot cheetos, Chris?”

Chris looks down, sees that he has indeed grabbed a bag of flaming hot cheetos and recoils, shoving it back onto the shelf. “Ew.”

Darren laughs and pulls him along, turning the corner and stopping in front of all of the sweets. “So we’re just gonna binge. On whatever you want. Until we feel so fucking fat we just fall asleep on top of each other, preferably without clothes.”

Chris doesn’t resist, grabbing his favorite chocolate off the shelf and holding it to his chest. He bites his lip, takes a deep breath.

Darren is up with him at nearly five AM, entertaining him because he’s got an unfortunate bout of insomnia. He hasn’t once complained or pouted about being tired, and Chris doesn’t think they’ve lost bodily contact from the time they’ve both been up.

He spins around, still holding the chocolate to his chest. Darren lights up when they make eye contact, and Chris pries his fingers away from the chocolate and his chest to pull Darren to him by the shoulder. He leans against the shelf and kisses Darren with one hand on his neck, trying not to whimper at how good he suddenly feels. He’s still tired, of course, but he also feels elated, and free, and Darren’s hands are around his back and they’re _so close_ , and he is losing his breath so quickly he has to pull away.

“Thank you,” he chokes it out softly, pressing his lips to Darren’s cheek to express his gratitude. “Thank you _so much._ This means a lot to me.”

Darren doesn’t reply, just nudges at his face with his nose affectionately, pulling him closer. They hug until they mutually pull away, starting through the store again. They spend another fifteen minutes there, holding hands the whole time.

\--

“So what brought on this insomnia, anyways?

They sip beer and chop vegetables at the same time, talking over the boiling water. Darren drops in the meat, wincing when the water hits his fingers.

Chris laughs, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t know. And maybe we should have cooked before we started drinking.”

Darren shrugs, coming around with his beer in his hand and a knife in the other. “Yeah but then we’d just be _cooking_. This is at least drunk cooking.”

Chris watches Darren struggle to chop the carrots, each piece coming out different lengths and sizes as Darren tries to sip his beer simultaneously.

He covers his eyes and shakes his head, taking in a deep breath because suddenly his chest is tight and he just wants to ravish Darren, just wants to shout it out that he loves him. (He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised, he swears he feels like this every other day, probably more.) He peeks through his fingers, sees Darren looking at him with a fond, gentle expression and covers his eyes again, smiling so hard his face hurts. Darren trails his fingers down his forearm to his elbow, tugging his hand away and swooping in to kiss him while Chris is still grinning, lips pressing over his again and again.

He pulls away from the kiss when he needs a breath and curls his fingers into Darren’s hair and lets him start at his neck, angling his head and closing his eyes, soft euphoria washing over him. Darren’s insistent and endearingly sloppy, hands curving over his knees and urging them open so he can step between them.

Chris’ back is against the chair with how hard Darren is pressing into him, his hands rubbing over Darren’s shoulders as he breathes out harshly, eyes still shut so tight. Darren’s hands rove over his chest, dipping under the shirt and skimming his sides again and again. Chris uses the fingers in Darren’s hair to pull him back to his lips, open mouthed and with exploratory, confident tongues everywhere.

Darren’s hands go to his zipper as he pulls away, dropping down to his knees and trying to get Chris on the edge of the chair. Chris wraps his hands in Darren’s hair, arches into Darren’s teasing fingers, and moans so hard his throat hurts a little.

An abundance of steam and a loud, rattling kitchen as the water for the soup boils over is not what he needs right now. Chris drops his legs away from where they’d been gradually trying to press onto Darren’s body, brings a hand to his face.

Darren sits back on his knees, sighing just as hard as Chris, “To be really honest I forgot what we were cooking.”

\--

The soup is, as predicted, a disaster -- some parts are soft and others are hard and Darren accidentally knocked the lemon pepper into it which is gross -- but they take bowls anyways. Darren sits on the couch, spreads his legs in invitation but Chris looks at him and shakes his head, settling on the floor like he was when he first woke up. Darren shrugs and turns on the t.v, scrolling through as they slurp their soup.

He stops on Girl Most Likely briefly, says rather sarcastically, “Oh look, _my movie_.”

Chris snorts into his soup, bringing a spoonful to his face so he doesn’t outright laugh as he says, “I heard you and Kristen had great chemistry.”

“Yeah, I ate her out in the backroom before we shot the sex scene. Great chemistry indeed.”

A little bit of his soup dribbles out of his mouth as he laughs full on, wiping a hand across his face, “Shut the _fuck_ up, no you did not.”

“No but that would have driven you fucking insane.” Darren slides a warm hand through his hair and pulls his head back, leaning over him and smiling. He kisses over Chris’ lips upside down and then nips at his jaw, brushes his nose against his face.

Chris brings his own hand up to awkwardly cup and squeeze Darren’s jaw teasingly, “Thanks Peter Parker.”

\--

Chris finishes his soup with a groan, leaning his head against the couch. “God, that was disgusting.”

“Tell me about it,” Darren hands him another beer and his chocolate, “Remind me to never cook while drunk again.”

“I thought drinking was supposed to make everything taste better?”

“Some things are beyond even the magical powers of Budlight, hun.”

Chris shakes his head and tips his beer back, swishing the liquid around in his mouth to get rid of the taste.

He rubs his eyes and yawns, covering his mouth. His eyes water and his mouth stretches too wide and he’s still nowhere near tired enough to sleep. It’s five thirty in the morning and Darren kisses the top of his head, settles in behind him to stay up and watch _Valentine’s Day_ with him until they fall asleep, however long it may take.

\--

At one point Chris unconsciously shifts himself up and onto the couch, laying against Darren’s body contently. Darren strokes up his back and Chris tips his head back with the back of his fingers, attaching his lips to Darren’s stubbly and warm skin.

“Go get the lube,” Chris says softly, flutters his eyes closed and laughs gently at how it sounds coming out of his mouth. Darren rolls away with a similar chuckle, leaving Chris to remove his shirt and boxers.

He presses his face to the pillows when Darren comes back with an already open bottle, arching into Darren’s hands on his ass. The lube is cold when it’s squirted carelessly onto his ass but he moans when Darren starts to massage his hole, working in his fingers slowly.

“Was insomnia just a ploy to get me to fuck you?” Darren chuckles against his lower back, rubbing over his prostate hard.

Chris jerks, rotating his hips back, shutting his eyes and moaning loudly when the fingers hit the same spot. “Like I,” his voice is high pitched, desperate, “need a ploy to get you to have sex with me.”

Darren wraps his hand around his hip, holds tight and eases his fingers out, turning him over so he’s on his back. Chris exhales harshly when his slick, twitching hole hits the couch, his own hands running through his hair. “ _Darren_.”

“Yes?” Darren says, gentle fingers gripping his thighs, massaging the muscle there. He slides his hand around, pushes up carefully and holds Chris by the ass, his dick nudging against his hole. Chris takes the hint and hitches his ankles over Darren’s shoulders, wrapping them around each other and trying to wiggle closer.

“ _Darren_ , please,” he sounds worse now, “hurry up.”

Darren finally rocks in, squeezing his ass and sliding in bit by bit. He gets in to the hilt and stays there, hips doing little twitches against him. “Oh shit, _fuck_.”

“This is new,” Chris huffs. “Hurry up.”

“You’re just the most demanding little thing, aren’t you?” Darren pulls out slowly, fucks back, in hard enough to move Chris up the couch. “ _Especially_ demanding for someone who becomes so incoherent with my cock in them.”

“Don’t call me little and _don’t flatter yourself_ ,” he moans, and then Darren starts fucking him hard, no longer holding back. He yanks his hips away and then forward again and again, resistance gone.

Chris shouts, tightens his ankles around Darren’s neck, “Oh _god_ , Darren _._ ” He wraps his hand around his dick and strokes himself, quickly to the time of Darren’s hard, unrelenting thrusts. He’s drunk and tired and his ass feels stretched around Darren’s cock; _he_ feels stretched, wrung out as Darren fucks him, his voice raw from his tiny shouts and screams; his scalp hurts from the pulling he’d been doing; he’s wrecked, he loves it; he’s in love, thoroughly fucked and _he loves it_.

“Oh fuck yes, gonna come in you so hard Chris, babe, _fuck,_ ” the thrusts get faster and less timed as they both reach orgasm, Chris coming first. It’s over his stomach, his hand, and he jerks against the over sensitivity as Darren keeps fucking him. Darren lets out a long, unrestrained groan soon enough, coming in him and seating himself deep as he does it.

Chris’ legs slide off his shoulders as Darren pulls out, laying on Chris after. He nuzzles into Chris and kisses his collarbone.

\--

Butter Pecan is his favorite ice cream, but he thinks he likes it even more when it’s fed to him by a pliant, unguarded Darren Criss.

They sit face to face, the bowl of ice cream in Darren’s left hand as he feeds him with his right. Darren does a silly airplane motion and Chris pushes against his shoulder, says, “It's seriously weird that we just fucked and now you’re attempting to do something to me that I’ve seen my mom do with Hannah.”

“Please don’t,” Darren grimaces, holds the spoon to Chris’ lips until he opens it and sucks the ice cream off, swallowing. Chris laughs and accepts the next spoonful, using his own spoon to feed Darren. Darren waggles his eyebrows and opens wide expectantly, and Chris spreads the white, cold substance on his lips. Darren shrugs, licks it off and leans forward to suck the spoon into his mouth, taking the rest of the ice cream.

He lifts the next spoon to Chris’ lips, and starts to sing, “ _I say hey, I be gone today. But I be back around today._ ”

Chris lays his head on his hands and accepts the offered ice cream, watching Darren grin and scoop more out of the bowl for him. “ _Seems like everywhere I go, the more I see the less I know._ ”

“ _But I know_ ,” Darren uses his thumb to rub over Chris slightly cold bottom lip, “ _one thing,”_   lifting the spoon and rubbing the ice cream into it, waggling his eyebrows again. “ _I love you_ ,” he sings, still in tune, forgetting the ice cream and tackling him to the floor, kissing the cold, sticky treat right off his mouth.

\--

“The sun is officially rising,” Chris sighs, peaking out of the window. Darren wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” he drops a sweet kiss there, “and I’m tired as fuck.”

Chris frowns, turns around and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Darren shakes his head and presses their lips together gently, “Don’t be. This was amazing.”

“And look,” Darren laughs, “we get to watch the sunrise together.”

Darren tightens his arms around him, plasters their bodies together and hooks his chin over his shoulder. Chris sighs and leans back fully, rubbing his eyes, yawning and still smiling as Darren sways them gently and sings it out to the sun rising: “ _And I know, one thing, that I love you._ ”  

**Author's Note:**

> so sorry for mistakes xo


End file.
